


Your Lieutenant Before Yourself

by Thymelady



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: 3x05, AU, Abbie is in a mood, Abbie is in denial, Crane and modern slang, Crane is a god in the kitchen, Crane is in love, Crane makes waffles to his Lieutenant, Crane mentions Netflix and chill, F/M, Fix It Fic, UST, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Witnesses and waffles before badly written characters, but they will always have waffles, domestic ichabbie, hugging it out, ichabbie - Freeform, totally irrelevant by 3x06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5145794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymelady/pseuds/Thymelady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 3x05. Crane doesn't want to go on a date. Abbie wants to be alone after her meeting with Agent Reynolds. Crane makes waffles to his Lieutenant. Both are great at suffering, but they talk and hug everything out. Or at least most things. Forever Ichabbie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Lieutenant Before Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> So it seems the writers don't care as much about Ichabbie as the fans or the actors for that matter? Fix-it-fic is the only way to regain my peace of mind. My first fic in this fandom. Also, this should be a gift to my usual beta and partner-in-crime, Shinysparks, but I can't risk spoiling season 3 for her.

He really had not wanted and expected things to take this turn. But now, by his Lieutenant’s encouragement, he had a date with Miss Corinth. Why had she wanted him to take that step? And how many times had all of it made him hide his face in his hands? He truly wished that matters were different, very different. The telecommunication conversation with Doctor Brennan and Agent Booth over Skype had showed him what he wanted. He wanted what they had, with Abbie. It was not news to him, far from it. But hearing Doctor Brennan’s frankness on the matter of his and the Lieutenant’s relationship had only made it harder to deny. 

What he wanted was to walk over to his beloved Lieutenant and embrace her until she not just embraced him back but relaxed in his arms. What he wanted was to whisper to her how he loved her, how his heart had ached for her every moment they had been apart, how he regretted not staying in contact, but his fear of bringing her deeper into his misery made him want to set her free, because he felt like he was a curse to mankind. He wanted her to tell him that he was too full of himself, as usual. He wanted to cherish her in every way possible. But lately, she shrugged him off. They were close… yet distant. Living under the same roof, but with a wall between them. He hated it.

He knew he was to blame, in so many different ways. If only…

The door to their home flew up without warning. Abbie always made sudden entrances, but the way the door banged into the wall made Crane jump from the sofa and turn his head her way. 

“Lieut-”

“Leave me alone,” Abbie demanded brusquely and stormed by him. 

_What did I do now? Oh, right. Not everything is about me, remember?_

He was echoing some of her snubs from these last weeks in his mind. It wasn't like he ever forgot. But he pulled himself together. What was the matter with his dear Lieutenant?

He knew better than to go over and knock on her door. So he decided to make waffles. She loved waffles and he had made an art out of waffle making. Also, cooking would at least sooth his feelings for a while. 

After about 20 minutes, delicious scents started wafting through their abode. And, as on a cue, he heard her door – no angry banging – and the sound of her feet without shoes shuffling to the kitchen. The Lieutenant shuffled her feet when she was tired or uncertain about something. He kept making waffles and looking over the counter to see if all her favourite toppings were there. He forced himself to relax and while not ignoring her presence, he didn't want to spook her; as if she was a doe in the forest. 

“Crane?”

“Mmm?”

“Why are you making waffles?”

“In case you need them,” he said, back still turned to her. 

“And what if I don’t need them?” she asked and he discerned an edge of crankiness in her voice. 

“Then we will know for sure that hell hath frozen over, Lieutenant.” 

He kept his voice even but he was alert to her response. When he heard her tired chuckle, he knew things would be good again. For now. 

“Hand me a waffle, will you?” 

He placed a fresh and crispy one on a plate and turned to her, daring a small smile. 

“Since it’s Halloween, I decided to try a pumpkin caramel sauce from the farmer’s market. Would you like to try it? Maybe with some sprinkled cinnamon and whipped cream?”

She was looking at him, arms crossed over her chest. Then she did that adorable thing that she did when she smiled, looked away and blinked several times. He could hear a sigh that sounded like a surrender.

“Thank God you agreed to move in with me, Crane!” 

“Oh!” he said and blushed. He turned around with a flourish and added the toppings on her waffle. He feared that looking at her now would make him say something he’d live to regret, one way or another. Just as he put down the plate, he was more or less hug attacked from behind. She rested her head just between his shoulder blades and her arms snaked tightly around his midriff. How could he not let his hands rest on her arms and lean in on it? She did something he had dreamed of doing so many, many times. 

“I’m sorry, Crane,” her muffled voice said into the back of his shirt. He just had to turn around in the embrace and pull her closely to his chest, one hand on her head. He wanted her to stay there always. 

“I’m sorry too,” he said. 

“For what?” she mumbled into his chest. 

“I am not sure,” he mumbled back and she snorted. He smiled into her fragrant hair. “Something has upset you.”

She sighed again. “I’ll have to tell you. I mean, I want to tell you. But also, I have to.”

What she said made his heart jump. It either referred to them, personally, or them, as Witnesses. Or both. 

“Woah, Crane! You’re not having a heart failure on me next, I hope?” 

“No, Lieutenant,” he said and hugged her closer. “This 266 year old body is in its prime.”

And there was the laughter. He felt like he has won a battle and earned a medal. She hugged him closer too. It was getting dangerous and he needed to win her full trust back, not take advantage of the situation. He released her gingerly. 

“Your waffle is getting cold, you will not like that,” he rumbled in her ear and led her to the sofa, plate in the other hand. They sat down, she was in her favourite corner and tucked in, offering him a piece that he gratefully accepted from her fork. They both made delighted noises over the pumpkin caramel sauce. It was an altogether heavenly moment to Crane, and to be fair, Abbie looked joyful in a manner he recognised from before. 

After a while, she started to talk.

“I was assigned a new case.”

He nodded and listened in his intent way that, unbeknownst to him, made her feel like she really was worth listening to. Not even Corbin had come anywhere close to her like that. She often battled down the feelings that rose within her in these moments between them. But not this afternoon. She told him all she knew about the case, knowingly telling him secrets that he wasn't supposed to know, but secrets that she needed him to know. For their cause. For her peace of mind. Like so often before. 

Then she told him about the latest developments from Agent Reynolds – and the part Jenny and Joe had played in messing things up. That angered him, but he kept silent until she finished. 

“You have been compromised! We must find out all the particulars in this, from Miss Jenny and Master Corbin! While l’m sure they probably had reasons for what they did, we must make sure this situation doesn't escalate and further damage your case, regardless of the circumstances!” 

It made such sense when Crane said it. It was a relief. And he didn't make any remarks on Agent Reynolds, despite her telling him about his displeasure with her. Not a word about the bureau or her priorities either. She had seen his lifted eyebrow and frown, but he had kept his mouth shut. She really wanted to hug him again. 

“Yeah, we must. But not tonight,” she said with a tired sigh. “Being angry, taking it out on you and getting waffles when I totally didn't deserve it is enough to make this gal call it a night, Crane!”

He sat up straight. 

“Then I propose ‘Netflix and chill’, which seems to be the latest, popular evening diversion!”

She laughed and hid her face in a pillow.

“By your reaction, Lieutenant, I am certain that I have somehow misunderstood modern slang once again.”

“That’s fine, Crane. Really. But speaking of which – so to speak - didn't you have a date tonight?”

“Not much longer!” and he went to his room to fetch his forgotten phone before she could protest. She wasn't sorry that he cancelled, she admitted to herself. Sure, she might have pushed him in that direction, but… Well, it wasn't like it could lead anywhere. Not really. That girl was no Katrina or Betsy or whatever revolutionary chick he'd had game with. And she certainly wasn't a Witness. She wasn't the Lieutenant. She wasn't her.


End file.
